


King of the Pitch

by lahdolphin



Series: A Very Potter Haikyuu!! [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21571849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahdolphin/pseuds/lahdolphin
Summary: “An ex-Beauxbatons student, a glare like Medusa, and a broom worth more than most people’s houses. You must be Kageyama, the King of the Pitch.”
Series: A Very Potter Haikyuu!! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/468232
Comments: 12
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

Quidditich was a sport and even at the age of thirteen, Kageyama was endlessly irritated by people who treated it like child’s game. If you weren’t doing your best to win, if you weren’t pushing yourself to the brink, why were you even playing?

Kageyama flew to the far-right hoop, catching the quaffle with ease, smirking smugly at the chaser that thought he wasn’t paying attention to that hoop. He was always paying attention. He lived and breathed for these moments, for these games. He won’t lose to anyone.

He circled around the goalposts and looked out at the layout of players. Only one of his chasers was open. One of the beaters, Kunimi, was flying towards a bludger to try and free up more options. Kindaichi was the right call, the only call, but he had an opposing chaser hot on his twigs. He needed to dive down. That’s where he needed to be so that’s where Kageyama threw the quaffle.

He tossed to Kindaichi, who was several feet away from where Kageyama had tossed the ball, from where he should have been to receive Kageyama’s toss.

Kindaichi dove sharply and barely caught the quaffle, glanced at Kageyama over his shoulder, and shouted, “Stop tossing like that! What’s the point if I can’t catch the quaffle?”

He didn’t have time to shout out his reasoning before tossing out the quaffle, or use those hand symbols like Sugawara did to alert the chasers where to be. If their chaser didn’t get the quaffle as soon as possible and start down the Pitch, the other team would catch up and make it harder to score. The other team may even intercept the toss and be in the perfect position to score again.

They needed to be faster to win. Why couldn’t the chasers see that? Why couldn’t they fly faster? Why couldn’t they think like him?

“Faster!” Kageyama roared, though no one was listening. Kindaichi was already flying down the Pitch with the quaffle. Kageyama increased his voice so they could hear it across the Pitch, “Fly faster! If you want to win, listen to me!”

Several minutes later, the quaffle made its way back to Kageyama’s goals. Kageyama watched the red ball as it was passed between the opposing chasers. Where was Kunimi with the bludgers? Why wasn’t he aiming them at the opponents? He knew Kunimi was lazy, but had he just given up this match?

The opponent tossed the quaffle towards the center goal, but Kageyama easily caught it against his chest. He didn’t look to where he was going to toss. His team knew where to go in this situation, but when Kageyama tossed the quaffle, there was no one there to catch it.

The quaffle fell through the air towards the ground without being caught.

Kageyama’s heart thudded dully in his chest. He felt disoriented, as though he may fall off his broom.

Why hadn’t anyone been there to catch the quaffle? What hadn’t someone caught his toss? Where was his team?

Kageyama turned his head from side to side, looking for his chasers. They were just hovering there, not moving, not even close to where they should be. They remained still in the air as the other team swooped in, grabbing the falling quaffle. They did not pursue the opposing chasers and the beaters did not aim bludgers their way, staying as stubbornly still as the chasers.

His entire team had given up the match.

No, Kageyama realized as a sense of horror washed over him _._

They had given up on their keeper.

They had given up on _him._


	2. Chapter 2

The morning of September 1st was gloomy, the sky thick with chilling fog and dreary gray clouds that blocked out the sun and its warmth. Kageyama made his way through the crowded, sooty platforms of King’s Cross Station, pushing along a trolley and looking at a peculiar train ticket.

Kageyama was bad with normal directions. How in the world was he supposed to find Platform Nine and Three Quarters? Was this some kind of sick joke?

He looked around for anyone dressed like a wizard or witch, but everyone was dressed like a muggle. He had instructions from one of the Hogwarts professors, but it was written in English and Kageyama only understood half the words. Why did this professor have to use such complicated words?

He only knew he was in the right place because he had been dropped off in a town car by his father’s assistant, who left the second Kageyama’s items were on the trolley.

“Have a good school year, Master Tobio,” he had said before driving off.

Kageyama wondered if he would miss the train when suddenly, he heard a voice from his right: “Why is someone with a Beauxbatons crest on their bags at this platform?”

Kageyama looked and saw a tall boy with swept up black hair. The boy stared at the Beauxbatons crest then flicked his eyes towards Kageyama’s broomstick. They too were pushing a trolley; they had a beautiful broom and a full-grown calico cat that slept comfortably inside their black pewter cauldron. There was a purple badge with a large P that looked awfully important pinned to one of their overstuffed bags, but Kageyama did not know what the pin meant.

Kageyama glared at the stranger. He didn’t care how cold or rude he looked. He couldn’t let this stranger find out. He couldn’t let anyone find out. Better to scare this guy off than risk them finding out.

“Do you go to Hogwarts?” Kageyama asked.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Kageyama was never good at reading people’s emotions and this boy was particularly hard to read, but Kageyama could tell he wasn’t angry. The boy put a hand to his chest and said, “But I’m kind so I’ll answer your question anyways. I’m a sixth year at Hogwarts.”

The boy tilted his head, taking another look at the items on Kageyama’s trolley, then said, “An ex-Beauxbatons student, a glare like Medusa, and a broom worth more than most people’s houses. You must be Kageyama, the King of the Pitch.”

Kageyama flinched at the name and the stranger grinned, enjoying the fact that they just hit the nail on the head. Kageyama gripped his trolley tight, his knuckles going white. He tried to mask his anger, his annoyance, his utter frustration, but he doubted he was doing a good job.

How did this stranger from another school, another _country_ know who he was? Had that name spread here already? Was he ever going to escape it?

“How do you know me?” Kageyama asked defensively.

“I’m friends with Sugawara Koushi. He goes to Beauxbatons, but he’s a bit older than you.”

Kageyama knew Sugawara, who had been two years ahead of him at Beauxbatons Academy, the school Kageyama was trying to forget about. Kageyama and Sugawara weren’t friends, but they played Quidditch together. Rather, Kageyama took his spot on the team last year. There were probably no hard feelings on Sugawara’s end because Kageyama was kicked off his team towards the end of the season and Sugawara took over his old spot as keeper.

The boy continued, “I heard all about you from him.”

“All about me, huh?” Kageyama muttered.

“I heard all about your family from some other people, though.” The boy paused before he kept talking. “Sugawara said that he heard you were transferring, but he didn’t know where you were going. Guess this solves that mystery. You need help getting on the platform? You look lost.”

Kageyama nodded shortly.

Without a word, the boy began to push his trolley towards platforms nine and ten. He pushed his heavy-looking trolley with ease and Kageyama wondered if it was enchanted to be light, or if the boy was strong. Kageyama pushed his trolley with more difficulty and followed him through the crowd, wishing someone had told him to enchant his trolley.

Kageyama could almost taste how bitter he felt. This stranger whose name he did not know had been more help to him than his family.

“Thank you for helping me,” Kageyama grumbled.

The boy gave him a sideways glance then grinned. “You look miserable right now. Don’t force yourself or anything.”

Kageyama scowled.

“I’m Kuroo, by the way. And yeah, _that_ Kuroo family, but the disgraced part.”

Kageyama knew what he meant. Kuroo was a pure-blood name, but the only son a generation back that had married a muggle woman. This Kuroo must have been the child of that union. A half-blood, then.

“I didn’t even know Hogwarts took in transfers,” Kuroo went on.

“I’m an exception, or something.”

“That doesn’t sound mysterious at all.”

“My father went to Hogwarts, but moved to France before I was born. I was raised there, which is why I went to Beauxbatons Academy. We moved back to England this summer and I—“ Kageyama paused to carefully think about what he said next. “I needed a change of pace so I decided to come to Hogwarts instead of going back to Beauxbatons.”

“How come you’re not speaking French? Did you grow up learning English too? You don’t have an accent.”

Kageyama reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out a pendent that hung from a fine silver chain. The pendent was a tiny, pale blue sphere.

“Language charm,” Kuroo deduced. “So people speak English and you hear French, and then you respond in French that is instantly translated into English.”

Kageyama nodded in confirmation and then carefully tucked the pendent back under his shirt. He wondered if Kuroo was some kind of charms expect, or if Hogwarts taught language charms— Beauxbatons did, since students came from many parts of Europe and spoke many languages.

“Can you understand any English?” Kuroo asked.

“I can read and write fine, as long as its common words, but translating what I hear is hard. Since Hogwarts teaches in English—“

“I get it,” Kuroo said. “And I’m not cutting you off because I’m an ass. We’re here.”

Kageyama looked around but did not see the scarlet red train his father’s assistant had told him about. There was only a brick wall between platforms nine and ten, but nothing else.

“Best to go at a bit of a run if you’re scared,” Kuroo said.

“Scared?” Kageyama asked. Why should he be scared?

Kuroo grinned. “Watch.”

Before Kageyama could ask what was going on, Kuroo began to run at the wall without hesitation, without fear—he was going faster, leaning into his cart—he was going to hit the wall—he was going too fast to stop—but he passed right through, disappearing from sight.

It was a portal, Kageyama realized.

Kageyama took a deep breath then jogged towards the platform, closing his eyes before he reached the brick wall. When he opened his eyes, he was at another place entirely. The air smelled of soot and exhaust, and owls hooted from every direction, rattling restlessly in their cages.

Kuroo was standing a few feet away with his trolley. Kageyama approached.

“That’s the Hogwarts Express,” Kuroo said, gesturing towards the brilliant red steam train on the tracks. “There are attendants that will put your things onboard. Just make sure you bring a pair of black robes so you can change before we arrive. I guess you’ll be sorted with the first years.”

Kageyama listened to what Kuroo said, but did not respond. The scarlet train was mesmerizing. Students took the floo to Beauxbatons, or flew in carriages drawn by large winged-horses if they lived in France like Kageyama had. The train was a much more attractive way to reach school, Kageyama thought.

“If you need help, find someone with a badge like mine,” Kuroo said, pointing to the purple badge on his bag. “Anyone with that badge is a prefect. They’ll help you.”

Kageyama nodded, making sure to remember that.

Kuroo began to push his trolley towards the train but stopped and looked over his shoulder. He said, “If what Sugawara said about you is true, maybe you’ll be in Slytherin like me.”

Kuroo grinned like a cat then turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

Kageyama looked like a giant compared to the first years he was surrounded by. The first years all whispered and pointed at him like he was a freak, or an idiot upperclassmen that road across the lake in the boats instead of taking the carriages up. Then they noticed his black tie and the lack of house crest on his breast and quieted. Like them, he did not have a colored tie indicating his house.

Hogwarts Castle was strikingly similar to Beauxbatons Chateau, though it was drastically different as well. The white stones of the buildings were the same, as were the mountains, forests, and lakes, though the chateau had heated lakes for the water nymphs. He didn’t see any massive rose gardens that students could stroll in, or fountains. He only saw one pitch, whereas the chateua had three.

Kageyama both longed for the old chateau and was thankful he would never see it again.

The large doors to what everyone was calling the Great Hall opened with a shuddering creak. The first years and Kageyama marched inside behind a man in billowing robes. He saw Kuroo sitting at a table of students that wore green and silver ties. That must be the Slytherin table, he thought.

Nearly everyone in the entire hall was staring at Kageyama, who stuck out like a sore thumb, and Kageyama learned that no one whispered as quietly as they thought.

“He’s way too big to be a first year.”

“Giant’s blood?”

“Too tiny to be a giant.”

“Hey, wait, I think I read about him in the _Prophet._ He’s some Quidditch player.”

“Yeah! Emperor or something, right?”

“ _King_.”

“He’s an amazing keeper, but I heard he can play any position.”

“Whoa. I wonder what house he’ll be in…”

How did everyone know who he was? Kageyama didn’t think that Hogwarts cared much about Beauxbatons’ Quidditch players. Beauxbatons’ rivalry was with Durmstrang, not Hogwarts…

Did Kuroo tell everyone? Or maybe Sugawara had a lot of friends at Hogwarts? What was the _Prophet_?

Kageyama balled his hands into fists and ignored their comments as he walked towards the front of the hall where an old, torn up hat was waiting.

Kageyama had heard about the sorting process at Hogwarts from his father. It was vastly different from Beauxbatons, which did not have houses or any division amongst students other than the Quidditch teams and clubs. Kageyama’s father had been in Ravenclaw, but Kageyama did not where he would be placed. He knew nothing about the Hogwarts houses beyond their names.

The old professor that had led them in began to talk, and then the hat began to sing. Kageyama happened to glance up at the ceiling, which was a beautiful, clear night sky. It was absolutely brilliant. Kageyama stared at it the entire song, which was over before he knew it. He looked away from the ceiling and clapped dumbly with everyone else.

“Before we begin sorting first years, we must address the griffin in the room,” the professor said with a grin that pushed all of his wrinkles up like layers of fabric. “This is unorthodox, but we have a transfer student this year that will begin Hogwarts as a fourth year. Kageyama Tobio, please step forward.”

Kageyama felt everyone in the entire room staring at him as he walked through a crowd of first years and took a seat on a wobbly stool. The old professor took the wrinkled old hat and set it on Kageyama’s head.

Kageyama looked up at the rim at the hat, which began to talk into his head.

“ _Oh, you are quite complicated for being so simple-minded_ ,” the hat said. _“You have the ambition and blood to deserve a spot in Slytherin, should you want it…”_

“Don’t mention my blood,” Kageyama thought, hoping the hat could hear him.

“ _So much passion, so much ambition, so much frustration… You admire someone quite a deal, don’t you? You envy their patience and the trust others have in them. You have mimicked their work ethic and determination and made it your own.”_

Kageyama gripped his knees tightly. Oikawa. Even at Hogwarts, Kageyama could not escape his shadow.

_“I know just the place for you…”_

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The hat was lifted off of Kageyama’s head and he was pointed towards a table where everyone wore yellow and black ties. Older students clapped him on the back when he sat down, welcoming him.

As the first years were sorted, Kageyama felt something tap his foot. He jumped and kicked on instinct and heard someone beneath the table shout.

Kageyama leaned back and looked under the table where a boy with strange black and white hair was clutching his stomach in pain. They spotted Kageyama, crawled a few more feet, then came out from under the table and sat next to Kageyama, who stared at him in confusion.

“Why were you crawling under the table?” Kageyama asked. “What the hell is wrong with you? Who just crawls under tables like an idiot?”

“We’re not supposed to get up and move during the sorting, but I had to come talk to you before the feast! I’m Bokuto, Hufflepuff’s Quidditch captain. Are you trying out for the house team?”

“Hogwarts only has the four house teams, right?” Kageyama asked. Bokuto made a face like _kind-of_ then nodded. “Then, yes, I’m joining.”

Bokuto frowned. “You have to try out, y’know.”

“I’ll make the team.”

Bokuto smiled widely and slapped his back so hard it stung. Was Bokuto a beater? He had the strength for it, Kageyama thought as he caught his breath.

“Sugawara told me you’re a great Quidditch player,” Bokuto said. “He called you the King of the Pitch.”

Kageyama ground his teeth together. Another person who knew Sugawara? Kageyama knew Sugawara lived somewhere in England, but he didn’t expect Sugawara to know so many people from Hogwarts.

“I don’t like that name,” Kageyama said angrily.

“Whoa,” Bokuto said, holding up his hands, “don’t get angry!”

“I’m not angry,” Kageyama lied, speaking through his teeth.

Bokuto didn’t seem to believe him, but he didn’t seem to care either because he kept talking, “So what position do you play? Sugawara said you played keeper at Beauxbatons, but he also mentioned something about you being a chaser?”

“I played both positions. What I played depended on our opponent.”

“Which one got you the nickname King of the Pitch?”

Before Kageyama could answer (he would have yelled for Bokuto to stop calling him that) the Hufflepuff table erupted with applause—a first year had been sorted to their house.

Someone further down the table shouted out Bokuto’s name and asked, “Why did you go down there?”

Bokuto cupped his hand around his mouth and called back, “I had to recruit the new kid!”

There was a wave of laughter that rippled down the table. Bokuto ducked under the table and crawled away before Kageyama could ask when tryouts were held.

* * *

An older student—a prefect with the same purple badge as Kuroo—took Kageyama and the Hufflepuff first years down into the basement after the feast and showed them the entrance to the common room. Kageyama had a room completely to himself, while even some older students had to share.

When the prefect finished his speech and asked if there were any questions, Kageyama was the only one that raised his hand. “How do you get to the Quidditch Pitch from here?”

The prefect had told him to go up the stairs, follow the corridor to the western courtyard, and go down the hill. They then said first years were not allowed brooms but quickly realized their blunder, as Kageyama was not a first year. They cleared their throat and told everyone to go to their rooms for the night and prepare for the first day of class tomorrow. 

Kageyama hardly spent five minutes in his room before he left, his bags left unpacked, his broom in hand. He exited the common room and went back up the stairs to the main floor. He had seen the Pitch on the boat ride over, the hoops standing like shadows in moonlight. He was eager to see Hogwarts’ Pitch up close and in person.

He followed the prefect’s instructions, getting twisted around somewhere along the way. He had to walk around the entire castle before he saw the Pitch in the distance. There were no lights and Kageyama wondered if students were supposed to be outside right now.

He lit his wand and walked down to the Pitch anyways, gripping his broom tighter as he approached. The grass was soft under his feet and he stared in awe, gently treading over the bottom of the Pitch. He felt his eyes lit up as he sprinted across the solid surface.

Beauxbatons did not have a grass Pitch. They used some faux grass that felt like a waterbed on impact. Here at Hogwarts, the ground beneath his feet was hard and solid, and would be unrelenting and painful should someone fall.

Still running, he mounted his broom, and took off at a startling pace. He kept his wand lit and held it against his broomstick as he circled the Pitch. The rush of the cold air against his face was exhilarating, and almost made him forget that everyone here knew his name.

King of the Pitch.

Kageyama gripped his broom tighter just thinking about that name and leaned into his broom, speeding up until the wind stung his cheeks red and blew back his robes and hair.

“Hey!” someone called out from below.

Kageyama stopped and hovered. He cast a spell and waved his wand, a ball of light traveling from its tip to the ground below, illuminating the Pitch with a soft white light.

There was a tiny ginger boy, probably a first year, standing at the edge of the Pitch with the most pathetic excuse for a broom Kageyama had ever seen. The wood was warped in several places and the twigs were wild in their arrangement, offering no benefit to the flyer. It was poorly cared for, probably a hand-me-down.

“What?” Kageyama snapped, voice echoing.

“Do you mind if I fly too?” the boy called back.

Kageyama glared. He did mind. He wanted to be alone.

“I was here first,” Kageyama said.

“You don’t own the Pitch!”

“Then why did you bother asking?”

“Because I have manners!”

Kageyama felt his anger and frustrating growing. Who was this kid?

The ginger boy mounted his pathetic broomstick and flew up into the sky. Only his ascent was not straight. It was crooked, wavering back and forth, like the boy hardly knew how to fly. He somehow made it across the Pitch to where Kageyama was without falling off his broom.

Now that they were at the same height, Kageyama got a better look at him. His hair was as wild as the twigs on his broomstick, and his brown eyes were stupidly stubborn. He was wearing a yellow and black tie meaning he was in Hufflepuff like Kageyama, only he had to be much younger to be so short.

“You’re a horrible flyer,” Kageyama said, honest and blunt. The boy gripped his broom and flew up a few more feet before coming back down. Kageyama scoffed. “How do you expect to control your broom if you can’t even control your emotions?”

“Shut up!” the boy snapped. “What do you know? Unless”—the boy flew closer, looking closer at Kageyama, who flinched away—“are you that King of the Pitch everyone is talking about?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“So you are.”

“Just leave me alone, okay?” Kageyama ducked into his broom and took off. He flew so fast that the boy and his crappy old broom didn’t stand a chance at catching up.

So when he heard a whoosh of air and looked to his left and saw the ginger boy flying next to him, moving ahead of him, he found it hard to breathe.

How could someone be so fast on such a bad broom? He had even flown the shortest path towards Kageyama, which was harder than it seemed when you were flying towards a moving target. Was that a fluke?

Kageyama slowed down and the boy turned around, nearly falling off his broom, and flew back next to Kageyama, who was seething. Why could this kid fly so fast? Even Kageyama couldn’t go that fast and his broom was top of the line.

“Who are you?” Kageyama asked.

“Hinata Shouyou,” the boy replied. “A fourth year.”

“And you learned to fly your first year?” Hinata nodded. Kageyama felt his rage grow and explode inside of him like a firework. He shouted, “What have you been doing these past three years?”

Hinata stared at him.

Panting, Kageyama turned around and flew back towards the castle, ignoring Hinata when he began to shout complaints.

Did he play Quidditch? Kageyama should have asked.

He should have yelled at him more for wasting such talent, such speed, by having such poor technique and control. Kageyama would kill for speed like that, would kill for his old teammates to have such speed.

Maybe Hogwarts wouldn’t be as boring as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this seems a bit different than my writing has lately, it's because it's sat untouched in my HP AU folder for about two years now. This was originally going to be a much longer fic akin to "The Crooked Kind" but with more focus on Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi, but I never finished it. I always had these first two chapters, though, and a few recent conversations and a comment or two made me figure "why not just post this?"
> 
> **[Tumblr](http://lahdolphin.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lahdolphin)**


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